


Misunderstanding

by Sed



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron thinks Alan is too old for sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kimmykun's prompt.

Alan traced his tongue over the curve of Tron’s lower lip, tasting sugar. He smiled and pulled away. “You’ve been in the candy again?”  
  
“Donuts.”  
  
He couldn’t keep Tron away from sweets, which was only a problem in the crumbs he left scattered around the house. And apparently his mouth.  
  
“Frosted?” he asked. Tron nodded and settled in next to him, the side of his face warm against Alan’s chest as he shimmied the rest of his body under the blanket. Alan set the book he’d been reading to the side, on the nightstand—it joined a stack of half-finished novels he’d started and stopped since the last time he cleaned out his vast collection of sci-fi paraphernalia. He swept his fingers around the shell of Tron’s ear and tucked a stray wisp of hair back into place. He often fell asleep while reading, with Tron snugged against him, snoring quietly. It was very sweet, and very romantic, and yet all Alan wanted to do was flip him over and pound him through the mattress.  
  
On cue, he felt curious fingers tickle along the top of his thigh, and then Tron’s hand closed around his half-hard length. Alan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy handjobs and Tron’s surprisingly talented tongue—he just wanted to move a little beyond third base. Once. Just once. To feel Tron’s warm, muscular body wrapped around him. Hell, he would have been fine letting Tron top him, if they could _just have sex_.  
  
Tron moved his head down, pushing the blanket out of the way, and pulled Alan’s cock out of his boxers. He dragged his tongue around it slowly, making Alan groan and tighten the hand he had tangled in Tron’s hair. There were no more bright blue circuits lining Tron’s body, not out in the real world, but he made up for the loss of that peculiar sensation with the incredible heat of his body. His internal temperature ran a good few degrees hotter than a human, and to Alan having Tron’s mouth around him was like slipping into a hot tub. He lapped at the slick tip and plunged down, taking in everything up to where his fingers were curled around the shaft. Alan moved his hips, trying to stay still and just let Tron work him, but it was so hard not to thrust.  
  
“Please, Tron, let me—”  
  
Tron made a frustrated sound and pulled his head back. The cold air on Alan’s cock was less than pleasant. “Another time.”  
  
It was always another time. Alan would have been fine if he’d just said _never_. “Will you at least tell me why?” He waited, and watched Tron look around the room like he was trying to think of an excuse. Finally Tron sighed and set his head down on Alan’s hip.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.  
  
That wasn’t at all what Alan expected to hear. “What? What are you—hurt me? How?”  
  
“You’re… delicate.”  
  
“Compared to you, maybe, but humans aren’t made of glass, Tron.” Alan reached down and lifted Tron’s chin to look at him. He didn’t see the relief he’d hoped for.  
  
“No, not humans,” Tron said, shaking his head. “You.”  
  
That was certainly an unpleasant revelation. Tron thought _he_ was delicate? Alan couldn’t even begin to imagine what might have given him that idea. Sure, he hadn’t been tumbling around on the Grid like Sam, but—wait. “Is it my _age_ that’s bothering you?”  
  
The silence was pretty much all the answer he needed. Tron wouldn’t even look at him, and Alan felt a burning heat rising from the middle of his chest, making his throat feel tight. He was furious. “I don’t know what you heard, but I’m not old and withered, Tron. I’m in my fifties for Christ’s sake, I can have sex and not get hurt!”  
  
“That isn’t what Edward said.”  
  
“Dillinger?” The five minutes Tron had been alone with the board after Flynn’s explanation of the Grid and the subsequent shitstorm between the former CEO and Hardington suddenly flashed through Alan’s mind; he’d seen Dillinger pull Tron aside, and the younger man laughed like he’d shared a particularly hilarious joke. That was a full three months before Alan and Tron even dared to touch one another for the first time, though they had both realized there was something between them.  
  
No wonder Tron was convinced Alan was a frail old man.  
  
“That little f—”  
  
“It’s not his fault,” Tron said quickly. For some reason he seemed to like the Encom board members. Possibly because he hadn’t yet figured out just how manipulative and false most of them were. He took most people at face value, which was only endearing when it wasn’t getting him into trouble, or costing him everything Alan handed him to spend. Walking through kiosks at the mall was like navigating a minefield.  
  
“What did he tell you, exactly?” Alan asked.  
  
“He said he’d seen the way you were looking at me, and that I should be careful not to hurt you.”  
  
“Is that it?” That wasn’t nearly as nefarious and cruel as he imagined. Maybe Tron had just misinterpreted general relationship advice—  
  
“He also suggested a few ‘positions’ we could try that would keep you from breaking a hip. He was trying to be helpful.”  
  
The only thing stopping Alan from storming out of the house, driving to Ed Dillinger’s apartment, and drowning him in his own toilet was the look of sincere concern on Tron’s face. He genuinely believed Dillinger was trying to help. “Tron, I need you to understand something: Dillinger is a lying punk. I know you want to believe all users abide by some lofty moral code, but they don’t—we don’t. Even I lie from time to time. Dillinger does it to be funny, or because he’s mad that I know what his father looks like, and what he’s going to look like in another ten years.” That was petty, but Alan couldn’t deny that it was also accurate.  
  
“So you’re not delicate?”  
  
“No more than any other user. I can’t go all night like I used to, but that comes with age.” Memories of Flynn and Lora keeping him up until he had to get ready for work were suddenly replaying in his head, and Alan frowned. The least Flynn could have done was let him take the day off.  
  
Tron was quiet. Alan felt his hand creep back into place under the blanket, and then he smiled. “All night, huh? That’s too bad.”  
  
“Well,” Alan said, “that doesn’t mean I can’t _try.”_


End file.
